Underestimated
by LooseCable01
Summary: Harry pulls himself together after the events in OoTP but soon finds that his new attitude towards schoolwork, together with Dumbledore’s fresh attempts at ‘interhouse relations’ have landed him somewhere he doesn’t really want to be – Slytherin. No slash
1. Usual Welcomes

_Disclaimer: As wonderful as my writing is cough I don't own any of the characters or indeed call myself J.K. Rowling… You know the rest…_

_Authors Note: Please don't be too harsh on my punctuation. I tend to either put in too much at inappropriate points, not put things in where they really should be, or just not put things in at all. I'm sure you can work it all out one way or another. You're all clever chaps and chapettes._

_Setting: What can I say! I'm still traumatised from HBP. And refuse to acknowledge the ending because I love Him and now I want to hate Him. So I suppose this is an alternate book 6 really. Set after the events in OoTP anyway, so SPOILERS FOR OOTP. Some characters are likely to be OOC, and possibly more so as we progress! _

_Summary: Harry pulls himself together after the events in OoTP but soon finds that his new attitude towards schoolwork, together with Dumbledore's fresh attempts at 'inter-house relations' have landed him somewhere he doesn't really want to be – Slytherin. Will he survive?_

* * *

**Underestimated**

Usual Welcomes

"Hufflepuff!"

The shout rang out across the hall, followed by a shower of applause from the announced house table. Harry stared at the empty goblet in front of him, his thoughts hazing in and out of focus; the broken clapping bringing him back down to earth each time.

"Harry?" Came Hermione's concerned voice, "Are you alright?"

Harry slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers, clearly expressing a don't-even-go-there vibe, and the question faded into silence. She pursed her lips and sat back, folding her arms with a slight frown.

"Well you _are_ being rather quiet after all." she muttered.

A snort was audible, and a certain redhead turned from the Sorting with a wide grin.

"'Mione, let the man doze. Not everyone finds this ceremony as exciting as you." Ron absently picked some fluff off his sleeve, then added, "Especially after six bloody years of it."

Harry smiled, glad to have an excuse for his lack of attention. Although a doze would be very welcome, at the moment he would have preferred to siphon some thoughts from his head before sleeping. Thoughts and memories seemed to be on full speed, zooming around his mind like little owls. Little owls with no sense of direction.

He couldn't blame Hermione for worrying about him. It just irked him to have people constantly tip-toeing around the issue of Sirius' death. It had been painful, but he'd had all summer to come to terms with the 'event', and now he was ready to move on.

Two weeks into the holidays he'd been hit with the realisation that Sirius would hardly have wanted him to mope around in his room for the rest of his life, and so, in need of a distraction from his moping, had taken the liberty of unearthing all his old textbooks. With the Dursley's new-found _complete_ ignorance of his existence, Harry discovered that he could quite happily work through his old schoolbooks in peace; although, to his discomfort, he had come across sections of his second and third year work that had been so successfully forgotten that he wasn't even sure he'd seen them before.

By the time he left for Grimmauld Place he felt more confident with his theoretical work, and, thanks to the extensive warding of his late godfather's house, found himself becoming more confident with his practical work too. Hermione and Ron hadn't been allowed to stay at headquarters for long periods of time, and even though this had upset him at first, he had soon found that maybe it was good to have a little quiet-time – some of which he had spent in Sirius' room, sifting through memories. Just because he'd decided not to mope in his own room didn't mean he couldn't occasionally mope in his godfather's room.

Now here he was, with a head full of facts and figures that Hermione would have been proud of, cursing the fact that the only subject that continued to evade him, was the only one that could clear the flurry of owls in his mind– occlumency. The thought of it brought a scowl to his face and without realising he was doing so, Harry found the direction of his gaze moving upwards to the staff tables.

Snape sat there as brooding and shadowy as ever. He was watching the sorting uninterestedly, a finger tracing his lips, dark eyes glaring at any students who dared to clap too loud. Harry studied the potions-master carefully: Outwardly, Snape didn't seem to be too harassed by the current war going on in the outside world. Dumbledore looked a little more tired than usual, McGonagall perhaps slightly strained, but Snape - the one who Harry decided should be feeling considerable pressure all things considered – was sitting there happy as ever. Harry snorted to himself as an unbidden picture of a 'happy-Snape' joined the circling owls in his head.

Unfortunately, it seemed that back in the present world, Harry's snort had occurred at a moment of heavy silence while the hat was sitting on the head of a worried-looking first-year boy. He escaped the notice of the hall in general – thankfully only receiving funny looks from those sitting nearest to him. However, Harry's outburst seemed to have earned him his favourite kind of attention; green eyes locking with unfathomable black ones as he returned his gaze to the head table and a certain potions professor.

Welcome back, Harry thought uncomfortably as Snape glared at him… or glared _into _him. No matter how hard Harry tried to find any emotion in those dark eyes, or to work out what the potions-master was thinking, it was always rendered useless. The man just didn't _have_ any emotions. Harry tried to place 'happy-Snape' at the front of his mind and force the thought across to the professor himself, keeping the bat away from the rest of his head. But, Harry wondered, maybe his tornado of mind-owls would give Snape a meltdown if he received them all at once. Unfortunately though, he didn't get the chance to try out his theory, as Dumbledore stood up with a resounding, "Well now!..." effectively snapping both of them back to the ceremony at hand.

"What was that all about?" Ron muttered, having noticed his friend's staring match.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Harry replied softly, a sinking feeling in his stomach suggesting that there would be little change in his teacher's attitude this year.

Hermione gave them both a pointed look and they sat in silence for a few seconds. Dumbledore's voice rumbled on in the background, giving the usual messages of warning and welcoming.

"The usual greeting from our dear old Snape?" Ron said after a moment, with a heartfelt look on his face.

"It's alright for you," Harry said frowning and dropping his voice even further, "You didn't make it into his bloody class this year."

Ron grinned, "And let that be a lesson to you about what happens when you work too hard."

Hermione's head whipped round this time,her hair catching an unfortunate Seamus in the face. She had obviously taken personal offence at this last remark, Harry noted with an internal sigh. It had become more obvious over the holidays that his two friends were becoming more… romantically interested in each other. However this didn't bode too well for Harry's future peace-of-mind, because the only way that they managed to express this affection was by deliberately baiting each other.

"Would you two just shush!" she hissed, her attention returning to the speech just as quick as it had left it.

Harry watched Ron's face for a reaction and sure enough, a little smirk appeared on his face at her words. Just ask her out, for goodness sake, Harry thought. He returned his gaze to the empty goblet. But what if it was his presence that kept them apart? Maybe they were too embarrassed to become an item with him around… Maybe they didn't want him to feel left out…

Harry sighed and mentally growled. He had just added more speeding owls to the ever-expanding family in his head. He turned his attention back to the speech, Dumbledore's voice continuing happily.

"…and so in order to establish some bridges between our houses, I have discussed with our Sorting Hat the idea of inter-house exchange."

Harry's head snapped up, and he noticed that the headmaster looked positively delighted with this idea. Harry also noticed that he himself had become incredibly uncomfortable. It seemed that the hat had taken matters into its own hands - so to speak.

All of the little owls in Harry's head fell silent and sat unmoving.

"As we realise that many of the younger students are still establishing friendships, and have not divided into their chosen subjects for higher learning yet, we have decided to only re-sort pupils from year five and above…"

Was the room steadily getting warmer?

"…and as this will only be a temporary arrangement in order to see if we achieve success, we will only be taking one student from each of the four houses- years five, six and seven; twelve students in total. The hat has decided who is to change houses according to those of you who it felt would benefit from a change in scenery. And of course, those of you who it felt were hardest to place when you were first sitting up here… "

Harry loosened his collar slightly in an attempt to cool down. He could have sworn Dumbledore's gaze flicked to him for a second. Did it seem concerned? Queer looks were shot at him from several directions and he tried to compose himself. Hermione watched him carefully.

"I wouldn't worry Harry," she said, "What are the chances of the hat picking you? And even then, we'd still see each other right? I mean, it wouldn't be that bad if you were put in Ravenclaw, would it?"

Harry realised that she was trying to help him, however, caught a hint of curiosity in her voice. Perhaps Hermione was picturing herself up there, being sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Ravenclaw?" Ron sniggered, "Hufflepuff would be more like it with yourhistory Harry!"

Harry managed a strained smile, and a noise that he later decided sounded like a maimed deer. He knew exactly where the hat would put him if it got a second chance. His eyes darted across the room where Malfoy and his friends sat, looking incredibly relaxed, before returning to the headmaster.

"…Having discussed this with the hat earlier in the evening, I now have in front of me a list of chosen names. When I announce your name, please step forward," Dumbledore swept the room with a warm smile, twinkling all the way, "And take a seat on the stool. Professor McGonagall will then place the hat on your head. It may feel like it has shrunk in size, but I assure you it is only your heads that have inflated with knowledge over the past few years…"

Harry fell into a daze as Dumbledore began announcing the names. He couldn't go into Slytherin. He just couldn't. Not now. He'd be slaughtered in his sleep. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't allow it. Harry paused, stopping himself from getting carried away. He hadn't even been picked yet. In fact, there were probably plenty of students who were almost put into different houses during their first sorting… right?

A grumpy fifth year Hufflepuff slouched over to the Gryffindor table. No-one seemed to be quite sure how to react to their headmasters brainwave, and everyone who had been 're-sorted' so far had been welcomed with scattered clapping. Dumbledore stood with a smile on his face all through the proceedings.

Harry's eyes darted about the tables, as if searching for an exit. Perhaps this was just a terrible dream.

Ernie Macmillan was called, and moved nervously towards the stool. As it turned out, he was re-sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Who'd have thought it?" Harry heard Ron ask in wonder, "Macmillan, a Ravenclaw."

At the next name Dumbledore paused. Harry glared at him, and made sure that the teacher noticed this when their eyes met. The headmaster'sblue gazereturned to the sheet, a small smile playing with his lips. Harry closed his eyes.

"Harry Potter!"

* * *

_Chapter 1 finished! More to come I promise. Hope you enjoyed! x x x_


	2. Hat Attack

_A/N: Disclaimers and such on first chapter. Bit of a misleading chapter title, but I thought it had a ring to it!_

* * *

**Underestimated**

Hat Attack

Harry opened one eye in what he knew was a pained expression. All faces were turned to him, some looking nervous, some sympathetic, some looking downright ecstatic. He just sat there for a while; shoulders slumped, staring at the worn wood of the Gryffindor table.

"Harry, you better go up there." Hermione murmured after several moments of silence.

He watched as his legs moved of their own accord and he slowly rose out of his seat, stepping over the bench and striding out between the tables. He kept his eyes on the floor, muttering angrily to himself as he passed rows of students that he was sure were all thinking- I'm glad that isn't me.

Professor McGonagall came into view as he came nearer the front of the hall. She had a peculiar look on her face and Harry wondered if she was upset about the prospect of him changing houses. He couldn't see why – Harry must have lost the house more points since he started Hogwarts than the rest of the students in his year combined.

As he turned to sit on the stool he braved a look at Snape. _My future head of house_, Harry thought wryly. This brought a forced smile to his face which he directed at the potions-master. Might as well start building bridges. Snape just sat there with his arms folded and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Harry turned his head back to the four house tables and caught a last thumbs-up from Ron before the hat was settled on his head. Because he had indeed grown since first year, the hat sat comfortably on his black hair and did not cover his face as it had done before. Still, Harry closed his eyes in order to concentrate better on his impending doom.

He supposed the hat _might_ put him in Ravenclaw… Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions too soon. Even Hufflepuff would be- well, would it? Thinking it through, Harry decided he didn't really want to be re-sorted into Hufflepuff. Not that he was being-

_Would you like some help in your deliberations?_ Came an amused voice that cut off his train of thought, _Or am I merely keeping your head warm tonight? Don't get me wrong, I don't mind- I am a hat after all. _

"Sorry." Harry muttered uncomfortably, thanking all the heavens that Snape's mind-reading wasn't as finely honed as the hat's.

_Not at all, not at all. Now, Mr Potter, it is good to see you again. _

Harry tried not to deliberate too much on the hat's use of 'see', knowing full well that it had access to all of his thoughts.

_In quite a situation here aren't we now? I remember quite well the protest that you put up against entering Slytherin in your first year. _

"I'm quite prepared to put up a protest again." Harry said, the many ways he could be strangled in his sleep by Slytherin students flashing through his mind. He added threateningly, "And I know more hexes now too."

The hat was quiet for a moment and Harry smirked in triumph, taking this to be a sign of defeat. He then realised in horror the two people he most associated with smirking. It appeared the hat had cottoned-on to this also, as it told him quietly,

_You're more suited to that house than you think._

Harry felt his grip tightening on the edges of the stool, "No I'm not."

The hat sounded like it was smiling, _How many students do you think I get up here that are prepared to threaten me with magic if they don't get their way?_

Harry considered this whilst biting his bottom lip and decided to remain silent.

_I won't tell you the last youn__g man who did, as I'm sure it would only make you more uncomfortable… Suffice to say I had little choice on the matter, his bloodline being what it was. _

There was silence as Harry processed what he had just been told. Bloodline as in- Slytherin bloodline? Riddle? Tom Riddle had threatened the hat? But he had been a psychotic- Harry hadn't threatened it maliciously. And besides, he thought, trying to relieve the guilty feeling swirling around inside his chest - how would he go about hexing something sitting on his head anyway?

"I wouldn't really have hexed you, you know." He told the hat slowly, "And besides, that's all the more reason not to put me in Slytherin. They're all a bunch of blood-proud lunatics, I'd be killed."

_You know I had rather hoped that you'd have grown out of these prejudices._

"I'm not prejudiced." Harry grumbled.

_Hmm. Well then, why don't we compromise? _The hat fell silent for a moment._ I won't put you in Slytherin… How does Hufflepuff sound?_

"What?" Harry sat there stunned, "No."

It had come out of his mouth before he had realised what he'd said. And the implications that it had.

_And why not?_ The smile sounded like it had returned to the hat's voice._ No prejudices, eh?_

"Well you see-"

_And I'm afraid Ravenclaw just won't do, you're far too… high spirited for that house…_

"Hold on now, I-"

The hat sounded almost playful now,speaking with a bounce on each word, _It's going to have to be…_

"Don't you _dare_." Harry ground out.

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry sat there for a few moments just listening to the mutterings and whispers that had erupted from the house tables, keeping his eyes firmly closed so that he didn't have to see his friend's faces.

The hat sounded very pleased with itself as it added seriously, _Don't be put off by first impressions,allow it time._

Harry didn't have a chance to reply before the hat was removed from his head and Professor McGonagall's stern face came into view.

"Were you planning on sitting there all evening?"

Harry stood up so that she could place the hat back on the stool. Dumbledore called out the next name as McGonagall drew Harry to the side. Sweeping his eyes across the room he took in the dismayed faces of his Gryffindor friends, Ron's wide open mouth, Hermione's it'll-be-okay expression, and Neville's oh-my-god-you're-going-to-be-murdered look. His gaze also took in the suspicious looks of several pupils, and the afraid glances that some were shooting him. It was the whole Heir-of-Slytherin thing all over again.

He looked across at the hat, a scowl on his face,

"I think you need a new hat Professor," He watched as the sorting hat turned to listen, "This one's broken."

She folded her arms and showed no sign of hearing him, but to Harry's dismay, rather than getting mad at his words, the hat started giving a little dance on it's stool. In fact it looked so ridiculous that Harry felt a grin creeping across his face which he quickly smothered in irritation. Now was hardly the time to be grinning.

"You're going to have to sit down at the Slytherin table." McGonagall whispered to him, "Off you go now, quickly."

Thankfully, the next student (who happened to be a Ravenclaw girl Harry recognised from Charms classes) had taken up position on the stool. This meant that Harry was able to walk over to the Slytherin table without much trouble as most of the hall were now watching her being sorted. The next problem though, was where on earth was he supposed to sit?

Harry scanned the length of the table. The majority of sixth year students were up near the top of the table and Harry had a flash-urge to waltz up there and settle himself down next to Malfoy and Co. He'd show them a thing or two about arrogance. A mixture of Petunia Dursley, Professor Lockhart, and Umbridge entered his mind. But, he decided, after a second's deliberation, that that probably wasn't the best way to go about building 'inter-house relations', and so he settled for a seat with the first year Slytherins.

What young, innocent and impressionable minds, he thought with a little smile as a short brown haired boy moved aside to give him space. Lots of bright eyes looked up at him expectantly and he suddenly wondered if this had been such a good idea.

"Er… hello." He said quietly to those nearest him.

Several replies were audible from the first years, some sounding more pleased with his presence than others.

"You're Harry Potter."

Harry looked over to a round faced boy with tufty brown hair. He didn't think that this deserved a reply and instead gave a short nod. This seemed to be enough for the table of first years, and so they turned back to watch the sorting.

Harry took the next few minutes to see how Snape had reacted to his re-sorting but found (somewhat thankfully) that the teacher wasn't visible from where he was sitting. If I can't see him, he can't see me, he thought happily.However, he'd be seeing plenty of him later, Harry was sure.

By the time the food had appeared on the large table Harry had almost fallen asleep. The first years weren't exactly riveting company, so he had decided to concentrate on what was to come tonight. Apart from answering the odd worried question on teachers and classes, he kept quiet and tried to calm his nerves. The prospect of spending the night in the Slytherin dormitories made his stomach twist and he found that the usually appetising feast had become decidedly less appetising.

Harry pushed his plate away from him and rested his head in his hand, elbow sitting on the table. As he glanced up the Slytherin table a second year girl noticed him looking and gave him a very deliberate glare. Harry blinked, startled at the ferocity in her face and looked back at his goblet. His _Slytherin _goblet.

If that was what the second years thought of him, how in all-that-was-holy would he survive the rest of the house?

* * *

_Hope you're enjoying it so far. Bit slow I know, but will pick up pace I promise. x x x_


	3. Second Hand Slytherin

_A/N: Disclaimers on first chapter as usual. Hoping I haven't jumped into fights too soon with this chapter, but I totally had to have something between these two. :) It's unavoidable…and I love it! Enjoy, chaps!_

* * *

**Underestimated**

Second-Hand Slytherin

"It's bloody cold down here." The Hufflepuff's voice echoed slightly in the corridor.

Harry could only bring himself to murmur in response. The seventh year Hufflepuff and fellow 're-sort-ee' walked with a slight limp, Harry had noticed. Not that it really mattered to be honest, but Harry was trying very hard not to think on the oncoming destination. He was tired – the feast had ended later than usual and now all he wanted was to curl up in bed and forget the events of the whole evening until morning.

He had also noticed, for example, that the small army of Slytherins who were making their way to the common-room entrance were decidedly quieter than the Gryffindors ever were on the first night back. Alright, they were chatting away to each other but most were taking the trouble to lower their voices. Half of Harry put this down to politeness, but the other half immediately jumped to attention – it was because they were too arrogant to be excited about being back in the castle… a mere _castle_… The ex-Gryffindor snorted to himself.

Harry focussed on the pattering of footsteps against the cold stone floor as they continued on through the dimly lit corridor. They had passed some Gryffindors as they'd left the Great Hall and he'd managed to say a few hello's and receive a few condolences, however he'd still not managed to speak to Ron or Hermione. He wondered what Ron would think of him now. The possibility of falling out with his best friend only made his mood sink as low as the temperatures around them – that was pretty bloody low.

The mass of people ahead slowed to a stop and Harry could hear voices that he assumed were those of the Head Boy and Girl. His feet came to a gentle stop on the worn stones and he allowed himself an internal smirk at the fact that Draco had been relieved of his position since last year. This smirk soon melted however, as Harry noticed a familiar looming shadow detach itself from the wall next to the secret entrance and make its way in his general direction.

He made a deliberate move of turning his head slightly in the opposite direction and ignored the approaching man. Maybe he would carry on to his office…

Snape came to a stop slightly to the left of Harry and stood letting the crowds move past him towards the portrait hole, watching for someone who might dare to cause trouble.

Well… maybe Snape was just waiting till the crowds _parted_ so that he could carry on to his office…

"Potter…" Came his quiet voice.

Bugger it.

Harry didn't turn his head, "Sir?"

"Come with me."

And that was it apparently, as Snape billowed off into the dark corridor that they had just come from. Harry watched him for a second and then followed at a mutinously slow pace.

By the time Harry reached the Potion's classroom Snape had already disappeared inside. He took a last deep breath and tried to compose himself. He'd managed to avoid any confrontations with the teacher all through the summer; taking meals upstairs when he stayed the evening at headquarters, avoiding the corridor when the Order had meetings… Grimmauld Place could be nice and large when he needed it to be. It had allowed him time to cool down over Snape's attitude to Sirius – although the flame of anger was still there flickering in his chest, that's all it was at the moment – a small flame. He had _hoped _to maintain this hold on his anger at school. Harry just hadn't counted on the part where he would end up seeing the man every single day.

He stepped into the classroom.

It was in darkness. The desks were hidden in the shadows, ingredients jars glittering in what little light filtered through from the door to Snape's office - which happened to be open.

"Um… Professor?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Get in here Potter." Snapped a voice from the room ahead.

Harry scowled and stomped into the room.

The room was illuminated gently, light flickering across the old solid wooden desk and chair. Harry noticed a bookshelf along one wall which he had never acknowledged before, no doubt containing subjects which certainly were _not_ taught at Hogwarts. Snape was leaning against his desk.

Very gothic, Harry thought to himself. Full points for atmosphere.

He came to a stop opposite Snape, being sure to leave plenty of distance between them. The taller man stood with his arms folded, dark eyes watching Harry intently. His lips were pursed and it didn't take Harry's extensive knowledge of 'the-darker-moods-of-Snape' to know that the man standing before him was not very happy.

They stood in silence for several minutes, each daring the other to speak first. Much to Harry's annoyance, when he did open his mouth to comment on the lateness of the hour, Snape cut in before he could voice his complaints.

"So, a second-hand Slytherin," He said quietly, "Whatever would your father say?"

Harry fumed as Snape smirked at him. He didn't reply.

"I think… we need to make a few things clear Potter." Snape's eyes didn't leave Harry as he slowly waved his wand to shut the door.

It clicked ominously.

"The hat put you in Slytherin for a reason," He looked very sceptical about this, "And although I can't possibly imagine what that reason could be, I have no choice but to accept you into my house."

"It's an _honour._" Harry muttered, voice loaded with sarcasm.

Snape's wand moved slightly as he clenched his fists but he regained his composure quickly.

"Indeed it is," he said silkily, "And I expect you to with-hold that honour when you are around the other pupils: both those in Slytherin, and those in the other houses."

He stepped away from the desk and circled behind Harry. Harry tensed but did not turn.

"If I discovered that you were deliberately losing house points and causing trouble in order to darken the Slytherin name, well then…" He stopped directly behind Harry, "You'll have me to deal with, won't you?"

Harry doubted that anything he did could 'darken the Slytherin name' more than it already was but he held his tongue.

"Yes _sir_." Harry said through gritted teeth. He wasn't appreciating the whole 'intimidation' piece that Snape was performing. Especially when he couldn't see where the greasy man was.

"I think this will be an interesting experience for you Potter," Snape had moved again and sounded as if he was near the bookcase to Harry's right, "No McGonagall to pull you out of trouble…"

He slowly made his way back to the desk with a book in his hand.

"…no _loyal _friends…"

He looked up and met Harry's gaze directly.

"…no godfather…"

Harry felt his whole body tighten at Snape's words and the flame in his chest jumped higher. Some of this must have been evident in his face, because Snape smirked and continued slowly,

"Pity how things turn out…"

_How things turn out?_ Harry felt the flame roaring into an inferno inside him.

"… I was just becoming accustomed to his, ah… _useful _presence at Headquarters…"

"He was more use than you'll ever be!" Harry snapped angrily, wand now in hand, rage pounding through him.

Snape's mouth snapped shut, and his eyes glittered dangerously.

"_What_ did you say to me Potter?" he asked quietly, advancing on Harry.

"I just think you ought to have a little more respect, _Sir_." Harry said venomously, not caring that he was shut in a room with an angry Death Eater at quarter to eleven at night.

"_Really?_"The taller man snarled, "I hate to say it Potter, but respect has to be earned, and your lost-cause of a godfather – just like you're father - certainly never did anything to earn my respect!"

Snape's livid face was inches from Harry's, but Harry couldn't help but throw back an angered reply,

"I can't believe you still hold stupid grudges against them after everything that's-! They're _dead! _I reckon you ought to grow up Snivellus!"

There was a second where both Harry and Snape couldn't believe what had just been said, before Harry gave a yell as his wand was twisted out of his hand, and he was grabbed by the front of his robes, Snape's wand then positioned painfully against his chest.

"Don't you _dare!..." _Snape's enraged face was so close now Harry could feel his breath, "Don't you _dare _call me that Potter!"

The hand around Harry's wrist was rather tight and Snape was rather tall, so Harry decided it was best not to move. There was also the issue of the wand pointed at him, and he didn't fancy having his insides blasted across the room. Not that Snape would do that to a student of course…

"_Never_… Never use that- that _name!"_ Snape spat.

He wanted to run. He didn't care where, he just wanted to leave this room and these dungeons. Part of him felt ashamed at using the nickname that he knew must upset Snape, but he had been so angry! He just wished Snape would be more understanding – it didn't take that much effort. The man had deliberately taunted him.

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to control the whirl of emotions he was feeling.

"M'sorry…." He said quietly, breaking eye contact and looking downwards.

Snape didn't move, he was still breathing heavily. After a moment he spoke.

"You will be if you can't hold your tongue," He hissed, "Slytherin students will use it to their advantage if they know you are so emotional…"

Harry bit his lip – his wrist really hurt now.

"You're going to have to be very careful…"

Snape was watching him with a smirk now, he lowered his wand from Harry's chest but held on to him tightly by the wrist.

"If I hear you're involved in one fight with your housemates you'll be straight to me… and I don't take kindly…" Harry yelped as Snape turned his wrist upwards, "To rule-breakers."

He gently placed Harry's wand into his open hand and let go.

Harry snatched back his wrist and rubbed it, making sure he could still move all his fingers. Snape watched him for a moment, then made his way back to his desk.

There was a tentative knock at the door to which Harry looked up, surprised. It was past eleven now.

"Come in." Snape drawled.

A tall girl with sharp facial features and a Head Girl badge stepped into the room and turned to Snape after shooting a curious glance at Harry who still stood holding his wrist carefully.

"I thought I'd come search for Potter sir. I didn't realise you'd need him so long but it's rather late and if you'll forgive me for saying, I'm rather tired and don't want to wait-up much longer."

Harry watched Snape for a reaction. The girl was being rather… blunt. Normally the Potions Master would have flown off the handle by now and landed her with several detentions, but he merely nodded and muttered,

"Very well, I've had more than enough of him for one evening anyway."

Snape met Harry's eyes again as he made for the door where the girl now stood waiting, "I daresay I'll be seeing you again soon Potter."

He pressed the old book that Harry had seen him take from the bookcase earlier into Harry's hands, but Harry didn't look down at it. He kept his eyes level with Snape's until he passed through the door, receiving a last smirk from Snape before the door shut. Only then did he look at the title of the book.

_Coping With Loss: How to Soothe Your Soul_

With a growl Harry followed the Head Girl from the room and up the long cold corridor. He realised he was shaking slightly but she didn't seem to be too concerned. He barely heard her say the password for the wall to slide open. She then proceeded to tell him who he would be sharing a room with as they passed through the dark empty common room, but he was too busy imagining the various ways to hex Snape and get away with it, to pay much attention.

He muttered his thanks to her distractedly and wandered into the darkened room, briefly taking in two occupied beds before collapsing on the empty one. The dark haired boy didn't bother to move, merely flicking his wand to draw the heavy curtains surrounding him, and tossing his glasses unceremoniously somewhere next to him on the covers.

Harry let the book fall to the ground and buried his face in the pillows, choking back a sob. This was the worst night _ever_.

Thankfully he drifted off to sleep in seconds, the warm darkness relaxing his body as he forgot everything that had happened in the last few hours. Only then did Harry let out a content sigh and snuggle further into his comfortable Slytherin duvet, a semi-conscious thought entering his mind as he did so – _Bloody Slytherins._

* * *

_Hoping I haven't gone too over the top with angry-Snape! Wonder who Harry's sharing a room with? Three-guesses!Must thank all my reviewers so far, much appreciated! Cheers m'dears! x x x _


	4. The Morning After

_A/N: Disclaimers first chapter. A certain blond finally makes an appearance! ;)_

* * *

**Underestimated**

The Morning After

Something was poking him.

Harry tried valiantly to dredge up some reason why something would be poking him.

He was very comfy and cosy, and when he moved his arm to swat away the assailant it proved to be quite a complicated action. His limbs were heavy with sleep.

"Oh for Merlin's sake Potter, wake up!"

That wasn't Ron.

Harry pulled himself off the thick pillow and shook his head to clear the fuzz that had gathered overnight. Once his glasses were found and successfully positioned on his face, Harry was met with a very familiar sneer.

"Malfoy?" He croaked, hoping that his voice hadn't sounded as stupid as he thought it had.

"You missed breakfast and classes are in…" Malfoy checked his watch flamboyantly, "…Ten minutes. Might I _suggest _that you make yourself more presentable in the time you have."

Harry stared at Malfoy who viewed him with distaste, trying to work out where the _Hell_ he was and what was going on.

"What?"

Okay that had definitely sounded stupid.

Malfoy growled impatiently and muttered something that Harry didn't quite catch. He then moved his wand through the air in what Harry suspected was a well-practised movement, to conjure a mirror in front of him. Malfoy turned it so that the black haired boy could view himself clearly.

"Oh."

Harry's hair stuck up at more un-godly angles than usual, his cheeks were still rosy from sleep and his robes were severely crinkled after spending the night in them. Plus there was the fact that he still didn't have his Slytherin badge.

Harry glanced at Malfoy and felt somewhat out-of-place. The boy was immaculately dressed, as usual: hair tamed, skin flawless, robes crinkle-free with not a mark in sight. He seemed to notice Harry's gaze on him, and narrowed his eyes, before spotting something on the floor.

"Bedtime reading Potter?" Malfoy asked with a smirk.

Harry glanced down in the direction the blond was indicating only to see the battered cover of _Coping With Loss_ staring up at him. He felt a flush creeping across his face, partly through embarrassment but mostly due to anger.

"Snape." He muttered in reply, hauling himself off the bed as memories from last night threw themselves full force back into his head.

He made to what he presumed was the bathroom, and grabbed some robes randomly out of his case. Malfoy made a point of sniffing loudly.

"What?" Harry snapped, stopping on his march to the bathroom.

Malfoy was critically studying the robes Harry held under his arm.

After several moment's consideration he asked, "You're not going to wear those are you?"

Harry stared at him incredulously.

"And why on earth not?"

Malfoy wrinkled up his face and waved his arm carelessly at the robes, clearly expecting Harry to understand his meaning. When Harry gave no response to this, he shook his head and scowled, folding his arms.

"No reason..."

"Good." Harry said firmly, ending all possible further conversation centred around his appearance. He disappeared into the large bathroom and shut the door soundly behind him.

Well now, this was… surprising. The bathroom he had entered was a lot more spacious than the one in the Gryffindor tower, and although he hated to admit it, looked a lot more comfortable too.

The towels were equally shared between the three room members: dark green and thick, hanging over old (but immaculate) silver rails. The showers were large enough to fit two people - Harry didn't spend too long considering the history of these showers - and the bath in the corner looked more like a Jacuzzi.

Deciding to spend more time exploring the Slytherin dormitories later, Harry slipped into his robe and freshened up, hoping that by the time he was done Malfoy would have disappeared.

Unfortunately when he opened the door the blond was still present, sitting on what Harry presumed was Malfoy's own bed. He didn't look very happy.

"We're already seven minutes late for class and we haven't even left the dormitories yet!" He snapped.

"Well I'm sorry _Malfoy_, but I didn't ask you to wait for me, did I?" Harry replied, irritation growing.

"No, but Snape bloody well did! I'm your… _minder_ until you get settled in." Draco looked severely put-out as he said this.

"My _what?_" Harry yelled angrily, "I don't need a minder!"

Malfoy smirked at Harry's outburst.

"If you keep behaving like that then I'll just be here all the longer. Slytherin's don't get so upset over things in public, Potter - it's unseemly. The sooner you learn that the sooner I can go back to ignoring you."

"We're not in _public,"_ Harry hissed, "And since when did I do what you say? Why did Snape make _you_ of all people, my minder?"

"Potter," Malfoy sighed, "If you can't work that out then you certainly don't deserve to be in this house, never mind my company."

Harry gritted his teeth and glared at the smug boy in front of him. He didn't care what Snape thought, he was not about to take orders from some little stuck-up, upper-class idiot like Draco Malfoy.

"Are we going to class, or not?" Harry finally managed to ask.

"I suppose," Malfoy replied casually, "Snape's not going to like it that you made me fifteen minutes late to the first class of the year…"

Harry grumbled and made for the door. He had already come to that conclusion several minutes before.

He made his way swiftly through the common room and out of the hidden entrance, and was storming up the corridor before he realised that he didn't have a clue where he was going. He turned around, green eyes spotting Malfoy grinning at his indecision. The blonde waved a piece of parchment at him.

"Timetables Potter - ingenious things."

The blond caught up with him and continued with a smirk, "We're in Transfiguration. McGonagall will be most pleased at our tardiness don't you think?"

Harry's mood sunk lower. The head of Gryffindor house would most certainly not be pleased. Especially since Harry was now a Slytherin, and not protected by his position within her house. Plus there was the fact of his company in the matter. He knew for a fact that the Transfiguration teacher did not think highly of Malfoy at all.

Harry sighed, making to follow Malfoy as he swaggered up the cold corridor. He drew his cloak around him tighter in order to salvage some extra warmth from the material. One of Malfoy's backward glances must have noticed this because he slowed down.

"Cotton?" the blond boy asked.

"What?" Harry asked impatiently – he couldn't keep up with the taller boy's ever-shifting conversation topics.

"What material is your robe made from?" Malfoy asked again, sounding irritated himself.

"I don't know… I suppose it _is_ cotton…" Harry replied, wondering where this was going.

Malfoy gave a smirk, "I knew it. That's no good if you're going to be living down here."

"It's good enough for every other house." Harry said hotly, getting angered by Malfoy's constant air of superiority.

"In case you hadn't noticed, this _isn't_ every other house, Potter. Most Slytherins know to buy proper robes. They're expensive of course, but necessary, and if I do say so," Malfoy stroked the arm of his robe slowly, "Rather comfortable."

"There's nothing wrong with my robes," Harry snapped back, "They're comfortable enough as they are."

"Is that why you're shivering?" Malfoy asked, smug look firmly in place.

Harry didn't reply and the blond gave a last satisfied nod before striding back along the corridor. Harry growled and followed once again. After checking his watch he gathered that they were now twenty-five minutes late – it was getting ridiculous.

Then it hit him.

Malfoy was incredibly keen to get him looking _proper_ and Harry didn't think he could face McGonagall's reaction when they walked in this late. Not to mention Snape's reaction when he found out about it.

"Malfoy?" He asked innocently.

The blond stopped again and turned sharply.

"What?" He replied carefully, realising something was up.

"What if," Harry weighed his words cautiously, "We don't go to Transfiguration at all?"

The pale boy narrowed his eyes, "What?"

Harry allowed himself a mental smirk at Malfoy's suspicion. He swallowed his pride before continuing,

"Well, like you said – I don't exactly look… presentable as I am. What if we take this period and go sort it out?"

The question floated on the air for several seconds before Malfoy stated,

"You're too scared to arrive this late."

"I'm not scared," Harry replied huffily, "I just don't think it's wise to start off the school term like that."

"McGonagall would speak to Snape…" Malfoy told him.

Harry knew this and unconsciously rubbed his wrist. Malfoy watched him questioningly. Here came the decider-

"You could speak to him first."

Blue eyes met green.

"You expect me to lie to my head of house for _you_?" He sneered.

"Not lie," Harry held Malfoy's gaze, "Inform."

The taller Slytherin narrowed his eyes once again and Harry could tell he was weighing up his choices. Be late for class and be seen with Harry dressed as he was, or not appear to class at all, sort Harry out and explain to Snape his reasoning for missing Transfiguration.

Harry couldn't believe what he was actually suggesting. _Bloody Slytherins._

"Fine."

The answer caught Harry off guard.

"You're saying yes? You'll do it?" He asked in surprise.

"I'm saying _we'll_ do it, Potter. But don't think for one minute I'm doing this for you. I wouldn't be doing it at all if it wasn't completely necessary."

As he said this, Malfoy looked Harry up and down with a disgusted expression. Harry began to wonder if it was such a good idea after all.

"Follow me." Malfoy ordered.

Harry decided not to argue in case the blond boy changed his mind.

Much sooner than Harry had hoped they arrived in front of the Potions classroom. To his further discomfort it sounded like Snape had a class, his angry voice audible through the thick wooden door.

Malfoy didn't seem to care as he thumped loudly, exchanging a last confident glance with Harry before the door was opened with a swoosh.

Snape stood there filling the doorway. Harry felt rather sick as the tall man studied him darkly.

"Shouldn't you both be in class?" He asked, tone dangerously low.

"I decided it was necessary for Potter to take first period off, Sir. He seemed to be rather ignorant as to how he's supposed to behave as a Slytherin and I believed that I had reason to… sort him out."

Snape didn't say a word, but Malfoy held his ground.

"I didn't think you'd want him acting, or looking as he was, whilst in Transfiguration."

Steady on, Harry thought shooting Malfoy a glare.

The Potion's Master's gaze turned on Harry and he said, "And you decided to tell me this half an hour into first period? Why not at the start of the lesson?"

It was Malfoy who replied promptly, "I thought you'd be enjoying your first lesson of term, Sir."

The blond said this with a smirk and Harry waited for Snape to react.

"It's as incredibly stimulating as usual Draco." Snape said dryly.

Okay. Harry thought in shock, was that a joke? The dark haired man's next comment only stunned him further.

"I'll send a note to Professor McGonagall on account of your absence, but don't expect me to do this again." He looked down his nose at Harry with a sneer, "And make sure you do something with his hair."

Draco snorted as Harry's mouth fell open, but Snape had closed the door with a slam before he could make his angry retort.

Snape was hardly one to talk to Harry about hair. It was clear that it was Snape's favouritism that had swayed his decision. Draco might be annoying, but he had just saved Harry from the trauma of both McGonagall and the Slytherin head of house. Green eyes were shadowed by a scowl which was kept firmly in place until both boys were back in their room.

"Stop scowling Potter, it does nothing for your appearance."

"Bugger off Malfoy."

Harry was decidedly less keen on this plan of action now that he was actually going through with it.

"Do you want my help or not?" Malfoy growled, sifting through a suitcase which Harry realised did not belong to either of them.

"Whose stuff's that?" He asked, suddenly defensive.

"Relax hero, it's Blaise's stuff, he's more your size. My robes are too long and besides," Malfoy looked up, "I don't want you touching any of my things."

"Likewise," Harry muttered, dreading what would happen if Malfoy took his invisibility cloak or found his 'special' map, "Why do I have to wear his stuff? Why can't I get my own?"

"For one, it takes a few days for your order to be made up at the tailors, and secondly, I want to see what Blaise does when he realises what you're wearing."

Malfoy stood up with some pressed black robes and a Slytherin green and silver tie. He held them out to Harry who took them reluctantly.

"Well hurry up and change, I'm not missing the next class no matter what you look like."

Several moments later Harry emerged from the bathrooms in the Slytherin robes. Surprisingly, they were really comfortable and felt rather light despite the apparent thickness of the material. They were also, Harry noticed with a frown, a lot warmer and he no longer felt compelled to hug himself to keep warm.

"The green goes with your eyes sweetie," Malfoy smirked from his seat on the bed, "A born Slytherin."

Harry didn't reply and studied himself in the mirror not sure what to think of it all. He felt very... proper.

"There's still the hair though…" Malfoy said thoughtfully.

"I'm not changing my hair Malfoy." Harry growled.

What would his Gryffindor friends think of him now? It was bad enough wearing the robes, never mind if he changed his hair too-

"Aack!" He yelled angrily, swatting at his head where Malfoy had just smeared some gel or other, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorting your hair Potter," Malfoy grinned, "I would rub that in if I were you."

Harry glanced at his hair in the reflection which now sported a blob of goo. He angrily rubbed it in, trying to keep it to the ends of his hair so that he didn't resemble Malfoy too similarly. Much to his annoyance he found that the goop actually had helped tame the unruly locks that had tormented him since before he could remember. They didn't look as perfect as Malfoy's, thank Merlin, but they looked more… controlled. Controlled mess, he decided with a grin - rough and ready but with class.

Malfoy moved alongside him and nodded in appreciation. Harry quickly smothered his smile and replaced his frown, pointing a threatening finger at the blond,

"Don't ever touch me again."

Malfoy just smirked, "Whatever you say Potter."

* * *

_Aren't they just adorable? ;) Like choosing between white chocolate or dark chocolate… Hope you're enjoying, thanx for all reactions and reviews so far – always a pleasure peeps! x x x_


	5. Lessons

_A/N: Finally another chapter! Sorry about the slight delay on this one, had a lot of things going on. :) Have a question floating around at the mo – Just wondering if you think I should send this in a Draco/Harry direction. I know some people prefer it, but so far I've left it so that it can still swing either way. Anyway, read on! _

* * *

**Underestimated**

Lessons

"…And although it is unusual for magic to favour certain wand cores, it seems that those of us who have natural plant species in our wands are more adept at performing this specific incantation…"

Professor Flitwick's voice drifted through Harry's mind as he sat staring at the worn floor on the other side of the classroom. Malfoy sat next to him, casually taking in every word and occasionally whispering to Zabini on his other side. Harry ignored him.

He wanted to see his friends. Several Hufflepuffs were present in the Charms class, but none that Harry really knew all that well. He'd received a few curious looks when he'd first entered the room, some appraising, some… well - some not appraising. But he wasn't too bothered. He was pleased enough at his appearance and it didn't particularly bother him if no-one else was. Except, he thought, fingering the cuff of his sleek robe anxiously, if Ron or Hermione didn't like it. That might bother him.

He noticed the dark eyes of Zabini were directed at him and the boy raised an eyebrow in question of Harry's fidgeting. Harry let go of the cuff in embarrassment and turned back to the teacher.

"…the information in your textbooks should be sufficient enough, but for arguments sake, I have arranged for you to all have access to the restricted section of the library where you will find that the subject is explored in far more detail…"

Harry allowed himself a little smile as he tuned back into Flitwick's speech. The restricted section – that could prove very interesting. He shared a quick glance with the blond sitting next to him. Apparently Harry wasn't the only one considering the abuse of this privilege.

He had found that whilst going through his textbooks over the holidays a lot more of the theory behind magic had become clearer, however this had merely raised more questions rather than answering them. Harry had decided that his school textbooks felt a lot more restricting than they ever had before. Perhaps now there was a chance to find some answers.

Malfoy, however, probably just wanted access to the Dark books. Harry wondered, not for the first time, if it would be worth looking at some of these himself. Surely he would have to have at least a little understanding about what he was supposed to be fighting so that he could protect himself. And besides, he thought with a little smile, I'm a Slytherin now, it's part of the package.

As Flitwick dismissed them and the class began to file out, Malfoy leaned across to Harry.

"I've got things to do with Blaise just now, Potter. We've Potions at twelve, I'll just meet you down there. Think you can manage on your own for ten minutes?"

Harry scowled at him,

"I think I'll manage, don't you worry about me."

Malfoy snorted and made for the door where Zabini was waiting for him.

"I won't. Oh, and Potter," He glanced at Zabini, "Blaise likes you robes."

Harry rolled his eyes, mostly for his own benefit, and the other dark haired boy shot Malfoy a glare.

Once they had left, Harry got to his feet and made his way out and along the corridor. Glancing at his watch he decided he'd scoot along to the kitchens and grab some breakfast – he was starving.

He quickened his pace and with the help of some shortcuts, soon found himself in front of the fruit bowl painting. After escaping the horde of elves that welcomed him, he left the kitchens an apple, a little bag of cereal, and a steaming mug of coffee the richer.

Quite satisfied with his haul, Harry made his way leisurely downstairs, charming his mug so that it followed him gently on his way. He was munching happily on his dry cereal when he rounded a corner and came face to face with Professors McGonagall and Sprout.

The surprise was evident on all their faces; Harry's – at meeting someone around the corner, and the teacher's at seeing Harry's new appearance.

McGonagall was first to compose herself. She looked down her nose at him sternly.

"I noticed you were absent from my class this morning, Potter. I hope this won't become a habit."

Harry swallowed his mouthful of cereal before replying, "Not at all Professor. I had a bit of trouble… settling in."

"Yes Professor Snape mentioned something along those lines. I can see that you're quite… _settled _now though." She said with another glance at his robes.

Harry knew she wasn't being overly vicious with her remarks but he was still unsettled by his former head-of-house's coolness towards him. Time to try for some sympathy.

"Professor Snape seemed to think I needed some help – he's made Malfoy my _minder._"

Professor Sprout sent a little sad smile his way and Harry was sure McGonagall looked pitying, then angry, but in a second her expression was back to normal.

"If he was minding you properly, Potter, he'd make sure you were present for all your classes, and also," She frowned at his floating mug which seemed to be examining a portrait to her left, "He would make sure that you knew food and drink are banned in the corridors between classes."

Harry's head snapped up. Surely not. She wasn't going to take points from-

"Ten points from Slytherin for disregarding the rules." She said shortly.

His mouth fell open,

"What?" He asked dumbly.

This was becoming a habit.

"You heard me, Potter, now on your way before I take more points for rudeness to a teacher."

She watched him with a small smile on her face as he struggled to regain composure and folded his arms crossly. She had hardly ever taken points from him personally in Gryffindor.

"That's very immature." He muttered darkly after a moment.

Professor McGonagall smiled more warmly at this, leaned slightly closer and lowered her voice,

"I'm afraid I intend to pay Severus back tenfold for all the innocent points he took from Gryffindor due to your wrongdoings in my house. Starting now," She straightened up again and spoke at a normal volume, "Now do I have to tell you again?"

Harry stared at her for several moments, not quite sure to believe what he had just heard. She wasn't going to make his life any easier taking that attitude towards him - especially with Snape breathing down his neck, waiting for him to step out of line.

He shoved his cereal back into his bag and marched past them, coffee cup following him. Once he made sure he was clear of the two teachers he grabbed the cup out of the air and finished it off, then retrieved his cereal and began munching on it again – feeling very rebellious as he did so. It wasn't very convenient to have rebellion skipping through your mind during a Potions class though, so he tried to calm down before he reached the dungeons.

"You took your time. I thought you weren't going to turn up!" Malfoy growled from ahead as Harry made his way over.

He ignored him.

"Where have you been this whole- what's that look? What have you done? You're all grumpy again. You got into trouble didn't you?"

Harry scowled, "No."

"That's a lie." The blond shot back immediately.

"McGonagall took points from me," Harry said in an offhand way, "Alright?"

"What?" Malfoy exploded, "What did you _do_?"

"Nothing! She has a vendetta against me now. I've betrayed her house." Harry said dramatically, explaining what she'd told him.

Malfoy shook his head in disbelief, "Snape won't be happy."

"You don't need to tell me that." Harry muttered.

"Well, come _on_ then." Malfoy said with a sigh, making for the classroom.

Harry let his shoulders drop in defeat as he followed. He wasn't looking forward to Snape finding out about the points. Still, Harry wasn't about to tell him – what Snape didn't know couldn't hurt him… or anyone else…

The classroom looked the same as ever, dank and foreboding, and the rest of the class were already seated. With a thrill of excitement Harry spotted Hermione sitting near the back with a couple of Gryffindors and gave her a little wave. Happily, Harry realised that apart from her initial shock at his appearance she seemed to be more bemused than angry or disgusted, and she returned his wave with a grin. The others just looked shocked. Perhaps it was a good thing Ron didn't make it into Advanced Potions, he though uneasily – the other Gryffindors didn't look too pleased.

"When you're quite finished, Potter." Malfoy said icily.

Harry looked at him. The blond boy looked a bit put-out at not being the centre of Harry's attention. Green eyes filled with amusement at this revelation.

"Sorry dear." He said, taking the seat next to Malfoy.

The weight in his chest felt considerably lighter now that he knew Hermione hadn't rejected him for being a Slytherin and he felt a lot more able to tease his new 'friend'. This was what he should have started a long time ago!

Malfoy looked at him wryly, cheeks flushed.

"Shut the hell up, Potter."

Harry's grin just increased and he gave Malfoy a wink as he took out his textbook.

Right on time Snape entered the room and shut the door with a heavy slam, effectively silencing the room. He glanced in Harry's direction and the dark haired boy could have sworn he saw the man's lip twitch in a smirk before he launched into the first-class-back-speech. He was too elated to care – he had at least one friend still!

Harry was high on Hermione's acceptance and so in a dangerously playful mood. He wasn't listening to a word Snape said about schedules and hard work and all the rest, and instead had decided to start doodling on Malfoy's parchment. By the time Snape had started writing on the board, Harry had already completed a picture of a fuzzy lion, a snake with large fangs (he'd had personal experience of snakes with large fangs after all), and had started on his masterpiece of Voldemort in a Victorian-style dress, smoking a cigarette. The pictures were surrounded by different lazy scribbles of his name - he was rather pleased with it if he did say so himself.

Malfoy had been watching him with narrowed eyes as he'd started but had soon ignored him as Harry had become more engrossed in his artwork. He took a second to look down at the parchment once again and his eyes widened before he let out an undignified snort of amusement. The class fell deadly silent.

Snape turned slowly from the board and eyed the two boys at their desk. The rest of the class waited in anticipation of his reaction.

"What are you doing Potter?" He asked dangerously.

Harry threw caution to the wind and replied confidently,

"Making notes, sir."

Malfoy covered his smile with his hand as Snape put down his chalk.

"Really…" The teacher didn't sound impressed.

It was only as Snape began to walk over to the desk that Harry realised there may be a flaw in his plan – where the hell was he going to put the evidence? He slid the parchment under his textbook smoothly and discreetly, but unfortunately it didn't go all that unnoticed by his dear professor.

"Potter, give me that parchment."

Harry held out a blank piece of parchment for him innocently. He didn't take it.

"The other one." Snape's voice held an impatient snap this time.

Harry cringed and glanced at Malfoy, then back to Hermione who looked rather disapproving of the interruption to the class. He then looked up at Snape. The man had raised an eyebrow and looked as if he was savouring every moment.

Harry passed him the doodle-sheet slowly, and as Snape took it his dark eyes scanned the drawings with an expressionless face.

"Potter, this is a potions class not an art class-"

"It's not mine." Harry said quickly, interrupting Snape's drawl.

Snape just stared at him blankly and turned the parchment around so that Harry was staring at the multiple copies of his name that surrounded his characters.

"Oh." Harry said soundlessly, reaching a hand round to the back of his head in discomfort.

His happy-mood was quickly disintegrating.

Snape held his gaze for several moments before smiling nastily.

"I believe a detention is in order. Tonight, Potter, my office."

The mood had definitely crashed to the ground. Malfoy chuckled quietly but Snape then turned his attention to him as well, and he stopped.

"You will be joining him Mr Malfoy. Don't be late."

The rest of the class snickered amongst themselves and Malfoy shot Harry a death-glare.

The rest of the class passed quickly as they worked silently over their steaming cauldrons, concentrating hard so that Snape had no excuse to give anyone else a detention. It was only once they had been dismissed that Hermione appeared at his side.

"You'll notice that he didn't take points from you," She said very pointedly, "Detention maybe, but no points."

"Nice to see you too, 'Mione." Harry said with a grin.

Malfoy had also appeared now, but to his credit, made no nasty remarks and just scowled.

"I'm just saying. Everyone misses you Harry - Ron says hi. I like your hair by the way. What did you do with it?"

At this, Harry noticed Malfoy became more interested in the conversation.

"Malfoy decided to lend a hand." Harry grimaced slightly.

"Well, I like it," She leant forwards and spoke to the blond, "Well done."

Both Harry and Malfoy looked at her in surprise and she gave Harry a wink before heading off down a different corridor. She called back to them happily,

"Building bridges! See you later Harry."

They had both stopped walking by this stage and stood in silence for a moment.

"Well, that was weird." Harry said after a moment.

Malfoy said nothing but the look on his face indicated that he felt the same. They stood quietly for a minute or two before Harry stepped forwards once again and set out for the next class, turning back to see if the blond was following.

"I just got complimented by a mudblood." Malfoy said, scandalised.

Harry shook his head, ignoring the insult to his friend, "Malfoy, you just got _complimented_."

Malfoy's face darkened as Harry grinned at his own joke, then made to follow him down the corridor as it echoed with the black-haired boy's laughter, scowl only deepening an his pale face.

It was going to be an interesting detention, Harry decided. Painful, but interesting.

* * *

_I wanted to have so much in this chapter but it's already really long so it'll just have to wait! I know where the story is going now though, so we'll be zoomin' along! ;) Next chapter up soon! Hope you guys are still enjoying this, luvvin my lil' reviewers! x x x _


	6. No Pain No Gain

_A/N: Here's the next chapter, prompt as ever! This one's up nice and fast because I'm going to be away this weekend and won't be able to write the next bit for a few days – don't read it all at once. ;) As for the Draco/Harry thing, I reckon I'm just going to keep this one as a 'friends' relationship BUT will definitely make up for that by writing a D/H story after this – no fear! Read away and I'll see you soon!_

* * *

**Underestimated**

No Pain No Gain

The detention rolled around far faster than Harry would have liked.

He'd spent the afternoon sitting through classes in a similar fashion to Potions; receiving glances and suspicious looks from all corners of the school. His free period was used for homework in the Slytherin common room – which was actually a lot more impressive than he had realised before. The fire dancing in the grate had been very welcome to those in the room, as the day was dark and that winter chill was starting to seep under the windows already. The solid oak panels on the walls added to the warmth, with the deep green furniture making the whole place very comfy – not that Harry would ever be comfy in the Slytherin common room of all places.

However he'd found it to be a very productive area for working through his books. Apart from the odd whisper and evil glares from his housemates he had gotten through a lot more work than he ever would have in the Gryffindor common room.

All in all he had been quite satisfied with the days work, and the worry of what awaited him in Snape's detention with Malfoy only began to resurface as he headed down the corridor that night.

Now he would rather have turned tail and fled back to the Gryffindor tower than wander down these cold corridors towards his two least favourite people. Speaking of which – Harry noticed Malfoy up ahead in the gloom outside Snape's classroom.

"Potter?"

"Were you expecting someone else Malfoy?" Harry replied snidely.

"No, idiot. I just never thought you'd arrive on time for anything," The blond sniffed, "But I suppose you must be quite good at arriving for detentions on time – what with all the practise you get."

Harry rolled his eyes in the dark, and rubbed his arms to keep warm. Fancy robe or not it was bloody cold at this time of night.

"What time is it now?" He asked conversationally.

"Time I was sitting by the hearth in the common room, Potter. I don't believe you got me stuck with detention as well. I never _did_ anything."

"You interrupted the teacher's highly informative speech young Draco - which I happened to be engrossed in," Harry grinned through the darkness, "If anything it should be me back up in the common room warming my toes by the fire, not you."

Draco snorted, "You're an idiot Potter."

Another voice cut through the darkness, sharper and deeper than Malfoy's,

"Well Draco, apparently you do listen to some things I say after all."

Harry scowled and turned to meet Snape who had appeared out of the blackness behind them.

"Good evening sir." Malfoy said merrily.

"Is it?" He answered, looking at Harry with obvious disdain.

Harry felt his muscles tightening in anger. It was going to be a long night.

Snape strode past them and opened his door with a flick of his wand. He indicated that they should follow him.

Malfoy gave Harry a last frustrated glare before entering the classroom after the teacher.

"As you obviously do not seem to care about how important your schoolwork is going to be this year, I intend to make this fact extremely clear to you…"

The two Slytherins watched as Snape hauled a large old textbook out from a shadowy bookcase. He turned and looked at them, a dark smile playing across his features.

"When Hogwarts was first founded it was compulsory for all school leavers to be recorded – both who they were and what they became. Although this ideal only lasted for several centuries, the differences between those who did well in their NEWT's and those who didn't, became quite obvious…"

At this, he looked at them very pointedly before making for the door.

"I want you both to make sure all ingredients in my advanced store cupboard are categorized correctly: something which I would never normally suggest Potter should do, as he probably is not even aware what most ingredients are. That is why you will help him Draco," He smirked at Harry's annoyed face, "After that, I want you both to begin copying every word from the text I showed you. Starting at page one."

"What!" Malfoy asked loudly, a red flush creeping up his face in anger, "That'll take us all night!"

"I'm sure it won't…" Snape said with a satisfied look on his face which said he was sure it would.

"It hardly makes sense that you want us to work harder in class, when we're going to be half asleep tomorrow if we have to do this all night." Harry said with a growl.

Snape stopped and turned to survey Harry before making his way over to the black haired boy. Harry didn't move and stood with his arms folded defiantly.

"I believe you're forgetting that this isn't Gryffindor Potter," Snape said quietly to him, "If you break the rules, _I_ will punish you as _I_ see fit. It doesn't matter to me if it makes sense to you or not."

He leant in closer and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up.

"You're mine now." He said to Harry, evil amusement evident in his voice, "Don't forget that."

Snape made for the door once again, "You will do what I have told you, or I will give you another detention where you will have to do a lot worse. I'll be back to check up on you later," He paused before exiting with a smirk, "_Now_ it's a good evening Draco."

As the door slammed shut Harry shook himself in disgust at having been so close to Snape whilst Malfoy let out a growl of annoyance.

"This is all _your_ fault." He said turning to Harry angrily.

"Give it a rest Malfoy, you shouldn't have laughed when you did. That's all there is to it." Harry replied shortly, making his way over to the store cupboard.

"Give it a _rest? _I wish you'd never come to Slytherin, Potter, all you've done is cause trouble for me!"

The words hurt Harry more than he let on.

"Well I'm very sorry," Harry said sarcastically, "It must be very inconvenient for _you_. I'm sorry it's such a hard time for _you_. What about me? You think I wanted to change house? You think I wasn't happy enough where I was? I never wanted to join this snakepit of a house!"

The blond boy grabbed Harry and pushed him against the wall.

"Slytherin is more than your worthless Gryffindor could ever _hope_ to be, Potter." He hissed angrily.

"I'm yet to be impressed." Harry replied just as viciously.

They glared at each other for several minutes, the taller boy holding Harry firmly in place by the scruff of his robes.

"I can't be bothered with this." Malfoy said fiercely, letting Harry go and storming towards the door.

Harry watched as the blond wrenched at the door. It didn't move. He used his wand, but nothing happened. Malfoy's anger then turned towards their head of house.

"I can't believe he locked us in! He's even charmed the room so we can't use our magic!"

Harry considered this. That was quite a complicated spell, and he doubted that Snape would have managed it in the short time it took for him to leave the room. In fact he doubted if even Dumbledore could have managed it in that short a time. Being able to prevent someone from using magic took a lot of power and energy – he'd read about it.

Harry waved his wand at the desk, intending it to rise into the air. Nothing happened. The gentle burst of energy that he usually felt when performing a spell wasn't noticeable.

Then the answer occurred to him. They were still underage wizards. He was sure that he'd heard of a simpler spell that allowed people like parents and teachers to control their children's underage magic so that they didn't hurt themselves. It seemed that Snape had twisted this spell to his own advantage.

Harry tuned back into Malfoy's rants, as the blond Slytherin stomped about the room with a dark expression on his face.

"…can't believe him… never would normally… Potter's fault…"

"Malfoy?"

"…such an idiot… so unfair… I never even…"

"Malfoy." Harry said more firmly.

The taller boy growled and turned to Harry, glare still firmly in place.

"What?" He snapped.

"If you want out of here tonight we're going to have to do some work." Harry informed him bluntly, as if addressing a child.

"I hope you don't expect _me _to do anything." Malfoy sneered.

"Oh I _do_," Harry replied threateningly, "But I reckon one of us can get the cupboard sorted out while the other copies the text. It'll save time. What would you rather do?"

Malfoy just looked at him, "I don't have much choice do I? Snape will be sure to check the cupboard and he'll know if you've done it. It'll all be wrong."

"Don't be so dense Malfoy," Harry said irritably, "Of course I can sort out the store cupboard, I've been doing my homework this year. Make your choice."

Malfoy looked at him in suspicion and Harry could tell he was still unsure.

"I'll do the bloody cupboard," the blond muttered after a few moments, "Just don't mess up that writing though Potter."

Harry sighed at Malfoy's mistrust, and made his way towards Snape's desk. After a casual glance around the room, he slid comfortably into the potions master's large chair and grabbed a quill.

The silence in the room was broken by a moan as Harry inspected the old fashioned text in front of him. It was very long-winded, but he rolled his eyes and went to work - his concentration only wavering occasionally at Malfoy's short questions and mutterings about the mess.

After around four hours, Malfoy had just completed the store cupboard triumphantly, and Harry had made it to page twenty nine of the eight hundred word volume, when Snape appeared again.

The door opened with a creak and the tall man surveyed them both with narrowed eyes.

His gaze rested on Harry, and it took the green-eyed boy several moments to work out that Snape was glaring at him angrily for a reason – he was still sitting curled up comfortably in the man's chair… at his desk… with his quill.

Harry cleared his throat and scooted out of Snape's chair to stand near Malfoy.

"Well?" The professor asked stonily.

"The store cupboard's finished, sir," Malfoy informed him, "I did it."

Snape looked at Harry, whose fingers were black with ink. Harry just nodded his head towards the large pile of parchment sitting on the desk that he had copied from the book… adding his own sentences here and there of course, not that he expected Snape to read any of it.

"Page twenty nine." He said stifling a yawn.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Page twenty nine, _sir_." Harry added.

"Very good," Snape looked at Malfoy, "Go to bed Draco, I want a word with Potter."

Harry hid his surprise - and his disappointment at this. What was wrong now? He was tired and wanted to go to bed - and all the old-fashioned text was spinning around his head.

Malfoy disappeared, giving Harry a last wink before going.

"Ten points."

Harry looked back at Snape in question.

"Excuse me?"

"Ten points," Snape looked at him through narrowed eyes, "You lost my house ten points."

Oh for goodness sake, Harry thought to himself.

"I didn't do it intentionally." He said with a sigh, "I was eating in the corridors."

"The rules say you shouldn't eat in the corridors between classes Potter. You broke the rules, and you lost Slytherin points."

"Well, maybe I was _hungry_." Harry said making a face that clearly said to Snape – you're an idiot.

Snape scowled deeply.

"Well maybe you better get your act together, Potter," He snarled, "Any more points from my house and I will make sure that you regret it."

"What're you going to do, _sir? _Give me detention? Assign Malfoy as my _minder_? It's bad enough a punishment that I have to be in this house, never mind anything that you could make me copy from a _book."_

Harry was seriously annoyed. He was tired, and just not in the mood for Snape's constant attempts to provoke him and grind his self-esteem into the ground.

He didn't care that Snape was a lot bigger and stronger than him, or that the man was actually a qualified Death-Eater. He just cared that Snape was standing between him and a warm comfy bed.

Snape glared at him and shook his head.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, Potter. Go to bed." He said spitefully.

Harry was rather surprised that the teacher had backed down like this, but to be honest he didn't care. The opportunity to leave was there so he took it gratefully.

"Fine," Harry muttered, "'Night."

Harry exited the classroom quickly, before Snape could change his mind and sped along the dark corridor. His mind was racing – the thought-owls were back full speed.

Why had Snape let him leave without escalating the whole thing into an argument? Why didn't Malfoy just make up his mind whether to hate him or befriend him? And- why had he just walked into something solid?

"Sorry." Harry said embarrassed that he had walked right into someone.

"Who's that?" Came an unfamiliar voice through the darkness.

Harry squinted, then blinked in surprise as a wand lit up the corridor in a flare.

Three burly Slytherin seventh years stood staring at him.

Uh oh.

"S'Potter." One said, a nasty grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing down this corridor at this time of night?" Another asked suspiciously.

"What are _you_ doing down this corridor?" Harry asked boldly.

He had faced real Death-Eaters. These guys were just wannabe's… right? Still, alarm bells were ringing somewhere in his head. It was three in the morning… something told him that whatever these boys were doing - chances were, it wasn't totally legal.

"That's none of your business, Potter." Said the first one again.

Harry caught the flutter of a robe as something was hidden out of his sight. He looked up at them suspiciously.

"Looks like we've caught ourselves a spy." Said the brown-haired one Harry had walked into, stepping forwards.

"And we don't like spies…" The third said threateningly.

"I'm not a spy," Harry said annoyed, "It was just my bad luck that I ended up in this stupid house-"

He was too busy thinking of his warm bed, and the annoyance that these boys were being to him, to notice the fist flying towards his face.

The punch snapped his head backwards, but thankfully he didn't fall to the ground.

It was the second punch that achieved that, and he sank to his knees only to receive a kick from a different direction.

"The Boy-Who-Lived…" One of them drawled.

Harry coughed, taking another kick in the ribs.

"Slytherin idiots." He hissed in Parseltongue at them, frustrated at being unable to fight back.

They were very big, but not completely stupid, as they seemed to realise that his hiss was an insult and that it was rather ironic that Harry was insulting them in the language of their founder and they didn't understand. Unfortunately this only seemed to anger them further and Harry began to lose track of the number of punches and kicks that came his way. In fact he began to lose track of most things…

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry felt himself being pulled to his feet and a voice swam through his head.

"…Don't get too comfortable in Slytherin, Potter – you'll never belong here."

A final heavy blow to the face sent Harry to the ground again, but this time nothing followed. Only silence.

Green eyes strained to focus on the retreating figures and then moved to the cold stone in front of him. He lay still for a moment and tried to pull himself upright – failing painfully. His body ached, but – he thought numbly – I've had worse.

He didn't know how long he lay there quietly, swimming in and out of consciousness trying to work out what hurt the most.

One of the last things he saw before he passed out entirely were a pair of shiny black shoes.

Oh no, he thought, drawing to mind the one person he knew who would look after their clothes that perfectly.

Then the world went completely dark.

* * *

_Can't believe I just had Harry beaten up! But it's an integral part of the story :) so please don't be mad! Will all be better by next chapter! Hope it wasn't too violent for anyone. As always thanks to all my reviewers – I have a good laugh reading them and I definitely make a point of reading them all don't worry. They're really welcome. Thanx! x x x _


	7. Rivalries

_A/N: Here we go, we're getting there. Poor lil' Harry! Did we guess who his 'rescuers' were going to be? ;) Hope everyone's still enjoying!

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**Underestimated**

Rivalries

The blackness ebbed and Harry's brain soaked in voices that sounded very distant. He didn't open his eyes – they felt too heavy.

The dark-haired boy let out a small moan as the aches returned slowly to his limbs. At least he still had limbs.

The comforting hand that had been resting on his forehead was removed, and Harry only realised it had been there once it had gone. He felt a little panic slinking into his body as he lay wondering where he was…

It didn't feel like the hospital wing. Usually the stark whiteness of the room made itself known before he even opened his eyes. This time it felt darker… More enclosed. The clinical echo wasn't there, and he could swear there was a fire somewhere crackling away.

One way to find out.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, and strained to focus on something.

"Welcome back, Potter."

Oh nooooooo.

Harry closed his eyes again in a grimace, not wanting to view the face that would confirm the owner of the voice.

"At least now you're back with us you can drink this properly, sit up."

Harry didn't sit up and instead lay with his eyes closed, still trying to work out his surroundings. There were cushions under his head – nice big soft ones, and he was sure there was a heavy blanket keeping him warm.

"Potter…"

The voice was getting more annoyed. The blanket was a bit itchy actually…

"I don't have time for this Potter. If you don't sit up now, I will make you sit up."

Harry opened his eyes again to see if the potions master was being serious with his threat. The man's heavy scowl and tired face seemed to suggest that he was.

Harry pulled himself painfully into a sitting position, making the most of the heavy pillows for comfort. Now that he was above the blanket he realised that he was wearing an open shirt. There was a bandage wrapped around most of his chest – Harry poked at it gingerly.

"You took quite a kicking."

Green eyes searched for the owner of this new voice. A dark fuzz was visible in the background of the dark room.

Snape handed Harry his glasses and the image of Malfoy came into focus. The blond was sitting on the arm of a chair next to the fire, looking at Harry with a grin.

"You should have been more careful." Snape muttered, handing Harry the potion.

The black-haired boy swallowed it with a grimace as the pale blue liquid burned its way down his throat,

"You let me out of detention at three in the morning! How was I supposed to know those gorillas would be skulking around?"

"You could have just ignored them, like Draco managed to do." Snape informed him with a raised eyebrow.

Harry looked at the blond who just shrugged in response. He wasn't about to tell these two that he'd walked into one of the attackers in the dark.

"Yeah Potter, they didn't give me any stick, why did they have a go at you?" Malfoy looked genuinely curious.

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry said bitterly, "Gryffindor's golden boy. Why else?"

Malfoy looked at him in surprise. Perhaps he had expected these titles to be said with pride. Snape however, narrowed his eyes.

"Really?" He asked quietly.

Harry didn't even bother fighting the man's probing gaze and instead directed his eyes to the ceiling in a very deliberate manner.

A heavy silence draped itself over the room, and after a minute Harry looked back down to where the other two were watching him. He sat quietly for a few seconds, knowing exactly what they were trying to do, before he started fidgeting and eventually gave in.

"Maybe I asked them what they were doing…" He said with a wince, knowing full well how stupid it sounded.

Malfoy snorted and Snape just shook his head and started cleaning up some of his empty potions bottles.

"That's his way of telling you – I told you so." Malfoy said, nodding in Snape's direction with a smile.

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Malfoy smile genuinely. It seemed that the blond had the capacity to do so after all. He snapped back to the present, and felt a little swoop of annoyance at the blond's words.

"Told me what?"

"To be more careful, Potter," Snape said tiredly, "I warned you to watch what you said. You've barely lasted a day – it's just as well Draco found you when he did."

Harry looked back at the boy on the armchair as he slipped gracefully off the arm and into the centre of the seat, proudly splaying himself over the chair.

"You're gratitude is appreciated, Potter." He drawled from his position.

Harry didn't reply and just mumbled something incoherent.

"When you two are quite finished," Snape growled ominously, "I would like to get some sleep tonight."

The man stood in the shadows, storing away bottles and Harry watched him in silence for a while trying to discover all the sorest points on his body without having to move.

Malfoy stretched loudly and wandered over to where Harry was lying. He slid down and sat on the floor next to him, examining his nails.

Both seemed to have ignored Snape's request to leave him alone.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, finally realising that he didn't recognise the room at all.

It was very cosy, with a lot of books scattered about the place.

"Somewhere you will never return to again, Potter." Snape told him, warning evident in his voice.

Harry looked at Malfoy for help.

"Snape's private quarters," The blond told him with a small smile, before whispering loudly, "He's a very private person."

You don't say, Harry thought to himself. His eyes met Snape's and they were clearly thinking back to a certain incident that neither of them were about to mention again.

"Why am I here? Why not the hospital wing?" Harry asked carefully.

"We don't tend to frequent the hospital wing that often really…" Malfoy told him with a frown, "It's too public a place. And besides, I'm sure you wouldn't have wanted the whole school knowing what happened."

Harry decided this was true. How considerate of them.

"Well, I don't know how long you're going to keep _that_ a secret." Snape sneered from his new position on the armchair Malfoy had vacated.

Harry winced and touched his face gently. Malfoy's mirror charm came into play again, an Harry saw a nice dark bruise taking shape across one cheekbone.

"I suppose I've had worse…" He said, trying to reassure himself quietly.

"Oh, on one of your daring escapades no doubt." Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.

Snape smirked.

"Well… yeah," Harry replied bluntly, "But I never expected to end up like this just because I asked a question. Shouldn't the corridors of the school be relatively… free from peril?"

Malfoy and Snape shared a glance before the blond replied,

"Don't be so naïve, Potter. If you're going to go around asking seventh year Slytherin's what they're doing in the dark, on your own, in the dungeons then you're just asking for trouble. The school is as safe as you make it."

Harry looked at the blue-eyed wizard next to him in surprise. He'd never heard Malfoy say anything that made that much sense before.

"Like I warned you before, Potter, this isn't Gryffindor anymore," Snape said quietly, "In many ways it's good that you're in Slytherin because it's going to prepare you for the real world a lot better than the other houses would."

"Because the head of house doesn't _do _anything when his students get beaten up?" Harry asked with a flare of anger.

Snape narrowed his eyes angrily, but Malfoy replied before he did.

"Maybe because the head of house expects his students to have more sense than most, Potter. Which, it would seem, you do not."

Harry scowled, and crossed his arms before remembering his sore chest and promptly uncrossing them.

"No matter," Snape smirked, "If you carry on like this, then you're going to learn the hard way. Not everyone in the world likes you, Potter."

"You don't say." Harry replied shortly, eyeing up the two people who had made this fact very real to him since he'd come to Hogwarts.

Malfoy laughed, apparently understanding Harry's last remark.

"Come on, out," Snape told them firmly as he stood up, "Don't do anything overly strenuous for the next few days Potter."

Harry noticed that Snape looked quite uncomfortable with having to give him advice in an almost pleasant manner.

"Alright." Harry said making for the door.

Snape stopped short and glared at him.

"Alright, sir." Harry quickly added, not wanting to push his luck.

He was quite surprised that Snape had done anything at all to help him, never mind personally fixing him up in his private quarters. It had turned into quite a confusing evening.

Malfoy had a last few words with Snape after Harry had made it through the door and back into the corridor. In this short time Harry was able to work out whereabouts in the castle he was.

"-and I don't care how tired you are, you're not missing any classes tomorrow."

The two made their way out of the room, Snape seeing Malfoy out.

"No sir." The blond yawned.

"And, Potter, if you tell anyone where I sleep I'll make sure that you don't wake up the next day, understand?"

Harry nodded slowly. Was he being serious? Perhaps Harry ought not to drink too many liquids in Snape's presence.

With that, he shut the door in their faces and the two boys made their way tiredly up the corridor and back to the common rooms for the night. Malfoy made general conversation and Harry had to admit, he was acting quite amiable. Maybe it was the beating that he had just received, but Malfoy seemed rather pleasant and Harry was starting to soften up to him. How long would that last though, he thought to himself with a grin.

* * *

The next morning Malfoy actually woke him up in time for breakfast, but they were both exhausted having had only two hours sleep the night before. Suffice to say Harry didn't really care how people were looking at him in the Great Hall as they ate their bacon rolls together.

It was only when they were walking to class that a voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Harry!"

He had turned in a second, and was met by Hermione's happy smile.

How could anyone be so happy in the morning?

"What happened to you?" She asked, smile faltering as she saw his bruise.

Harry shared a glance with Malfoy.

"Um… walked into a door?" He said faintly.

She looked at him, unimpressed by his obvious lie.

"Harry?" Came another voice from behind her.

"Ron!" Harry said, startled.

His emotions were mixed and he waited anxiously for the redhead to say something.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked suspiciously, eyeing up Malfoy who was hovering nearby.

That's not quite what he had hoped Ron would say, but at least he was talking to him.

"I got in a fight." Harry admitted.

Hermione looked very sympathetic, whereas Ron immediately pulled out his wand still looking towards Malfoy.

"Ron," The brown haired girl hissed, "Don't."

"It wasn't him," Harry told them quickly before directing his speech to the other Slytherin, "You wouldn't hit me, would you dear?"

Malfoy scowled as he came over.

"If you keep calling me that, I wouldn't be so sure."

Ron looked a bit confused at the reasonable exchange that had just occurred between the two 'enemies' and Harry spoke to his best friend once again, trying to keep him talking.

"So, missing me?" He said with a grin.

Ron looked at him with a genuine smile, "Yeah. It's pretty weird with you gone. Everyone's finding it hard to believe the Boy-Who-Lived is a Slytherin."

"And what's wrong with being a Slytherin?" Malfoy snapped shortly.

"Would you like a _list_, Malfoy?" Ron snarled right back.

"Hey," Hermione said sharply, "Stop it, Harry's in Slytherin now Ron – you can't say it's all bad."

Ron didn't look convinced and held up his staring match with Malfoy.

"If it's so great, how come Harry got beaten up?" Ron asked loudly.

Harry winced as several people passing turned at hearing this. It would no doubt be through the school by lunchtime.

"Because Harry's still an innocent Gryffindor who can't look after himself in the real world." Malfoy shot right back at him, pulling out his own wand smoothly.

Hey now, Harry thought, I'm not that bad. He knew that the dig was at Gryffindor rather than himself though, but found that it didn't rile him as much as it may have done yesterday.

These words had apparently offended Ron's pride of his own house though and he stepped forward, yelling now,

"It's little wonder everyone hates Slytherins – you're all a bunch of thugs and morons, you'll all end up as Death Eaters when the rest of us earn proper jobs rather than bullying our way into work!"

"_Proper_ jobs like your father's, Weasley? Don't make me laugh!"

"Better than your father's Malfoy! How is Azkaban these days?"

By now Hermione was pushing Ron down the corridor with the help of Ginny who had noticed the commotion, and Harry was restraining Malfoy from sending curses everywhere.

Harry pulled him through the crowds into a quiet corridor where he could calm the fuming blond down.

"How _dare_ he!" Malfoy snarled, pulling himself free of Harry's grip and pacing the corridor angrily, "How can he say- oh forget it – you weren't much help, Potter!"

"I'm not going to help you attack Ron, Malfoy. Then again, I'm not going to help him attack you, so calm down."

Malfoy stopped and ran a hand through his hair.

"You alright?" Harry asked him carefully.

"Fine," Malfoy sighed, "I just…"

The blond looked uncomfortable.

"You just what?" Harry asked quietly.

"Just… my father, and all the Death Eater stuff… it just… I don't like it when he… when anyone…" Malfoy decided he couldn't find the right words.

Harry wasn't sure what to say and instead handed the blond his bag that had been dropped earlier. Perhaps the Slytherin had feelings after all.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said quietly, "Prejudices are hard to shake off… I know that, but this – this whole Slytherin/Gryffindor, you're all Death Eaters-we're all saints thing, it'll die down. I'm sure it will."

"Yeah, I suppose." Malfoy said with a sigh.

However, Harry wondered uneasily how true this was. He had a bad feeling that some would take recent events to heart and maybe, he thought with a sinking feeling, his 'exchange' had only intensified the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Only time would tell, he thought, making his way to class with Malfoy. But if it came to it, he wouldn't be fighting on either side, Harry decided.

That would make a nice change.

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_Hurray! Another chapter done and dusted! A few more to go though so hope you're still enjoying. Thought it was kinda cute how Snape and Malfoy looked after Harry. :) Finally got Ron into the story, was it too brash to have an argument?… that's what they do though right? Those two just have to argue:) Be back soon guys! Reviews are all welcome! x x x_


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